Making Days Longer
by Moranth
Summary: A chance encounter between a ruthless assassin and a strong willed civilian, lead thems down a path neither could have imagined, but neither would regret. Thane/Irikah
1. Chapter 1

**Spring 2164**

_Laser dot trembles on the skull. Spice on the spring wind. Sunset eyes defiant in the scope._

_Her body trembles. Not fear, indignation. Her mouth moves…_

The assassin sits transfixed, unable to act, unable to think as this scene plays out before his eyes. This assignment should have been simple, but it was the simple tasks that were the easiest to complicate.

~~*V*~~

_**Two weeks previous**_

He stood before the one called Shrimaanharkaara, as he had dozens of times before. The hanar's body flashed with vivid streaks of light as it spoke without words in a language Thane is privileged enough to understand.

"I regret calling upon you so soon after your last assignment." The spots of light are faint, conveying feelings of regret. They'd been acquainted for years, the hanar going so far as to tell the drell his soul name, _Honored Messenger_ was reluctant to rely on Thane's abilities, though he was one of the most capable assassins at his disposal.

"I assure you, it's no trouble." Thane had been waiting to be called upon. He didn't like being idle

"Sere Krios will find his assignment on the datapad." A slow, fluid movement of one tentacle showed him what he'd already noticed when he'd first entered the room; the item in question rested on a low table set between them. Thane knew _Honored Messenger_ well enough to now that he did not offer his help as a slight.

"My thanks." Thane accepted the pad. He tucked it underneath his arm as he stepped back into place. He bowed stiffly at the waist before raising his eyes to his benefactor once more.

"If that is all, I will be on my way." He was eager to look over the file. The sooner that was out of the way, the sooner he could begin the actual hunt.

The hanar paused. His body went dark, devoid of the silvery lights that ran along its length. The break in conversation was unusual from this particular creature. There were times when Thane had to chance being rude to excise himself from conversations that had no end in sight. Thane took note of it.

_Honored Messenger_ spoke again, his many lights still subdued, "No, Krios. That will be all."

~~*V*~~

When he arrived back at the temple, Thane went directly to his quarters. He shut himself away to prepare for the days ahead. As he poured over the information available for his next target, he chewed numbly on a protein bar to quell the ache hunger left in his stomach. He barely tasted the bland, dry mixture as he took in each detail.

Ismat Marna. Male, drell. Judging by the attached photos he was Thane's senior by a great many years. Thane's own father would be close to his age if he was still living.

Few drell were brought to Thane's attention, and the reason why remained a mystery. He was given a name, a photo and anything that he could use to his advantage to carry out his task. He didn't need to know anything more.

This target would not be easy to find. According to his dossier, he was aware that he was a marked man and was taking precautions in preserving his life. He was rarely seen during daylight hours. On those few occasions when he was spotted, he was never alone. He was accompanied by no less than two hired toughs. They moved quickly, not staying out in the open for very long.

The knowledge that forces were moving against him had served to heighten Marna's awareness when others would have fallen apart. Thane was impressed by Marna's adaptability, but in the end Marna was still prey. He would slip up sooner or later. They always did. It was just a matter of waiting him out. And patience was a virtue Thane had in abundance.

~~*V*~~

_**Thirty minutes previous**_

Despite his apparent will to live, Marna had a critical flaw that left him vulnerable: he was a creature of habit. To the untrained eye, his movements might have seemed random, sporadic, but to Thane's honed senses it was glaringly obvious that his quarry was moving in a set routine.

Every time Marna surfaced somewhere in the capital, he would perform the most mundane activities. A trip to the tailor, the market, places that from a cursory glance held little to no significance. It was unlikely these sites were as innocuous as they seemed, but checking on that was someone else's task.

After three days of his wandering, he always ended his excursions the same way. On the outskirts of the city, just outside of the dome, there stood a building that shouldn't have existed. There were no publicly available records, no signs, illuminated or otherwise stated its name or purpose. For all intents and purposes, the building seemed abandoned, but it was here that Marna made his last stop before fading back into the city among the masses making their way home.

Once he was within the building's walls, he didn't reemerge until well after night had fallen. Thane had observed that the target was left alone. Marna let confidence get the best of him when it seemed he should be the most cautious. It was then that he would strike. The window was a scant five minutes, but it was more than enough time for Thane to do what needed to be done and disappear.

Down the street from the blank slate of a building, Thane waited on the roof of a hospice some blocks away. His legs ached from disuse. For the last week he'd spent most of his time in one of two positions: crouched or prone, though he wished for once that he could rest on a surface other than concrete that was strewn with grit and pebbles. If his head rose too far above the lip of the rooftop, there was the chance that he might be spotted, though he figured he might be written off as someone taking their break to enjoy the vista.

From his perch he had an excellent view well away from the prying eyes of ever curious city dwellers. Sealing the door assured him that he wouldn't be disturbed by someone seeking a reprieve.

While his choice in location was impeccable, it did nothing to shield him from the elements. The roof was bare, save for an employee break area with a small garden, and a few vents. There were no structures that Thane could use as shelter. Thane had set up a field tarp in lieu of a proper tent because of its low profile. It kept the sun from beating down him when it got too intense, but it was utterly useless against rain that fell on an angle. Outside of the climate controlled city was a common occurrence.

Every drell who travelled outside the domed cities was equipped with a device to keep their exposure to the humid atmosphere to a minimum, but while on the job, Thane rarely wore his. The contraption was cumbersome. The part that fit over his nose and mouth butted against the stock of his rifle, severely throwing off his aim. When a thin layer of plastic was the difference between a clean kill and cruelly maiming the target, every millimeter counted.

The lord of hunters smiled on him. This evening was warm and dry as he lay under a cloudless sky.

Movement on the street in front of the building caught his eye. A car pulled up in front of the building, as close to the curb as possible, and out stepped Marna. He was early. The sun was still well in the sky as Marna stepped out of the car, looking rushed and flustered. He crossed to the courtyard of the building with long strides. Something had obviously gone wrong to make him break routine.

Something had spooked Marna bad enough for him to risk being seen out in the open. Chances were this might be the last time he visited this facility before he went aground, possibly for months. Thane couldn't let this chance slip away.

Marna disappeared within the building and the car pulled off to await his return.

Things were _not _going as Thane had planned, but the necessity of adapting to change had been drilled into him almost as intensely as his name had been. Civilians still milled about. The shot could be taken without endangering their lives, but there was the off chance that he could be seen by some bystander. The chances of that happening were slim, but Thane liked to complete a job as thoroughly as possible. This would be a black mark against his otherwise flawless record in his eyes, but it would be regarded as a mission accomplished if there was no loss of innocent life.

A scant few minutes passed, and Marna stepped back out into the open, with a lot less bluster than he'd entered the building with. Thane tracked his movements through the scope. Marna was clearly displeased by the events of his visit. That made two of them.

As Marna waited for his ride, he chatted on a communicator which only seemed to sour his mood. Now was the time to act.

With a slow flick of his thumb, Thane turned on the sighting laser. He raised the rifle until it was lined up for a clean, kill.

_Laser dot trembles on the skull_.

He took a deep breath to stabilize the shot. A strong breeze carried the pungent smell of flowers from the garden to his nose.

_Spice on the spring wind._

He removed the safety. His index finger hovered just above the trigger.

"I know not what you've done, but may Kalahira accept you with open arms," he whispered though he knew full well the man couldn't hear him at this distance. "Amonkira, allow that my aim be true."

With both eyes open, he blew out slowly as his finger made contact with the trigger.

This day couldn't get any worse.

Not only had Irikah given up her day off to try to help a friend in need, but now the product of her hard work was running away from her.

She'd spent her whole afternoon in the park just outside the dome city. Tori, her friend and classmate, needed a picture of a scenic overlook to complete her own finals project. But rather than just finding a picture on the extranet, she insisted it had to be from the mind of a fellow student.

Ordinarily, Irkiah would have told her to forget it; she usually found herself knee deep in her own projects. But her classes were all but done with. Soon, she'd be graduating, all that was left was to attend the finishing lectures. She didn't really have a reason to tell Tori no, so Irkiah agreed to help.

After hours of trying different techniques, she ended up with several copies that she could choose from. If she didn't like any of them after all of this, then she could come out and sketch the scene herself.

As Irkiah made her way back towards the domed city, a wind kicked up and tore the few papers she'd been trying to fit into her portfolio from her fingers.

She hurried after the papers into the courtyard of the abandoned building. The first two papers were simple enough to retrieve as she plucked them from the air. The third she had to step on halt it's flight. The fourth twirled around a lone figure standing in the middle of this place before dancing on. He faced away from the street, embroiled in a conversation on his commlink.

Winded, Irikah approached the man to apologize before he chastised her. She didn't want him to think she'd thrown it at him, but he didn't seem to notice. As she drew closer, something seemed off. On the back of his head, in the midst of a sea of blue and black scales was a single red dot. She thought it might have been an odd birthmark until it started to move.

The dot trembled left to right, but never more than a few centimeters in either direction.

She'd seen this before. In one of the action holos she'd had the misfortune of watching, it was the unmistakable sign of a sniper lining up his shot. It was like she'd been thrown into one of those horrible movies. And she remembered what soon came after that.

This man's head would be blown to bits. And his body would just lay here in this abandoned lot in this forgotten part of town.

If she hadn't lost her papers, she could have just walked on, oblivious to what was really going on. But now she knew what would happen to this man and she couldn't just ignore it.

Paper in hand the woman walked on, coming to stop in between Thane and his target. The red dot now hovered on the bridge of her nose, just between eyes that were as startling as they were beautiful. Orange irises, flecked with red set against dark sclera. They were unsettling as they stared back at him, as if she truly saw him.

_Sunset colored eyes defiant in the scope._

_Her body trembles. Not fear; indignation. Her mouth moves, "How dare you."_

Her fingers clenched tightly around her papers. Her knuckles turned pale from the pressure. Her words were full of reproach yet he didn't need to hear them to understand. He could feel the anger radiating from her, jaw set with resolve.

What kind of person would take a life like this? It was so impersonal. Chance were, whoever was controlling that dot had never even met this man she'd thrown herself in front of. If he had to die, he deserved the chance to meet his death head on, rather than being shot in the back. Rage bubbled up in Irkiah again. There was no honor in this. No matter what he'd done, she didn't think he deserved this.

While he preferred a more hands on approach, Thane had used a sniper rifle to carry out his duty thirty-seven times before. At least fifteen of those times had required that he act under less than favorable circumstances; in public, in broad daylight with inadequate cover. Never before had a civilian, a bystander stepped in. Most people were too wrapped up in their own lives to notice that someone else was in danger. And the few that had spotted him merely kept their heads down in an attempt to preserve their own lives.

It was as if the goddess Arashu herself had stepped in to spare Marna's life.

Perhaps she had.

With fingers that trembled, he latched the safety, never removing his eyes from the rifle's scope. He turned off the guiding laser. The red dot no longer danced between her brows, yet that was not enough to satisfy held her ground, while Marna railed on his communicator, unaware of the battle of wills that raged on behind him.

The woman stood there, immobile, never taking her gaze from the direction of Thane's post. She was determined to stand there until Marna was safe. And for reasons he didn't quite comprehend, Thane was powerless to act against her.

This mission had already failed. He should have packed up his kit and left. But he didn't. He should have contacted Shrimaanharkaara to tell him that unforeseen circumstances had arisen, but he didn't do that, either. Instead he lay there, perplexed. What made this woman impede his work? She didn't know Marna. They'd exchanged no friendly greetings or even acknowledged each other's presence. He was a stranger to her, and yet she'd risked her life to save his.

Thane mind couldn't comprehend that a creature of mortal flesh would be so selfless...unless she was not of mortal flesh at all.

Marna's car arrived and the man dashed to it, ignorant of how close he'd come to meeting the sea. The woman remained, rooted to the spot until the car had driven off down the road.

She glared at Thane one last time, her golden eyes piercing him to his very core from such a great distance. Slowly she turned on her heel and simply walked out of the courtyard and continued on her way as if she had not just stared down certain death.

After she was gone, Thane could still feel her eyes boring into him. Hers was a memory that would haunt him like nothing had before. He had to find her and find out why she had interfered. If she was Arashu in the flesh, he would have to apologize for aiming his gun at her.


	2. Chapter 2

"You were unsuccessful." The words were a mere statement of fact, and though he spoke without a voice, _Honorable Messenger's_ disappointment was palpable. Fresh shame burned in Thane's chest.

"That is correct." The drell knelt before Shrimaanharkaara, humbled. Lowered to this place of contrition, Thane didn't dare look at the hanar for longer than he had to, too humiliated to let his eyes linger on one so far above him. "I did not eliminate Marna, but it is but a temporary setback.  
"There were unforeseen complications. A civilian...got between me and the target."

"You were seen?" Subtle shades of red muted the tendrils of silvery light coursing through _Honorable Messenger _in alarm.

"No," Thane went on, "but to take the shot would have been to risk exposing myself. I erred on the side of caution."

The hanar went quiet as he contemplated this news. Shrimaanharkaara's many tentacles twitched, anxiously. Thane again regretted putting his friend and benefactor in such a position.

"You have charged me with bringing about the end of Ismat Marna, and I ask that you let me finish what I have started."  
Pride in his work was something Thane allowed himself to cling to throughout his training. It drove him to excel, and most of all, it couldn't be taken from him. But on these rare occasions where he fell short, as all mortals must, the anguish he inflicted upon himself was a far more severe punishment than anything Shrimaanharkaara himself could dish out.  
All children made mistakes, and as such, they needed to be disciplined. While well meaning, the hanar were less than proficient at doling out corrections, and often passed along the task, along with the training of devotees, to others; teachers who were not inhibited by societal politeness and would not think twice about applying much needed force where it was due. Some of these _teachers_ even seemed to revel in it.

_Honorable Messenger_ drifted down from the dais, coming to stop in front of Thane. He laid an arm on Thane's shoulder, making the drell look up at him.

"Then this one will leave the matter in your care."

/*/*/*/

Stepping out of Shrimaanharkaara's chambers, Thane felt the tension leave his shoulders. The only thing worse than having to live with the memory of his failure, would have been the inability to redeem himself. That Honored Messenger would afford him this opportunity was nothing short of a blessing, and Thane would not let it go to waste.

Relief washed over him as he passed through the double doors of the building and into the fresh air. Though Shrimaanharkaara had never called on him for negative reasons, visiting the administrative complex made Thane uneasy. The structure was dimly lit, to better view the lights the hanar emitted. Each office was small and cramped. These elements combined gave Thane the sensation that he was trapped in a hole.

Now, out in the fading sunlight, Thane allowed himself to breathe easy. Ideally, he would have renewed his pursuit, but he needed to refocus. Marna's trail grew colder by the hour, but going out half-cocked wouldn't make his task any simpler.

Starting where he'd last seen Marna and the mystery woman seemed a likely jump off point, as it was the only lead he had.

Thane closed his eyes and the memory of the strange woman roared to life behind his lids. He knew her image wouldn't slip into his subconscious until he was able to confront her, but that seemed like a fool's errand. He had less information on her than he had on Marna, but finding her had become as important as finding his mark.

He swayed on his feet, barely able to stay upright. He needed to rest. Spending several nights in the cold and rain on a rooftop didn't exactly allow for restorative slumber, and now fatigue was catching up with him. While stims would keep him awake, he didn't trust them to keep him sharp.

In addition to a few hours sleep, Thane was in dire need of a bath. Upon returning to the temple, Thane went straight to _Honorable Messenger's_ chambers, without stopping to even drop off his kit. The layer of grime and filth only added to his disgrace. It seemed a respite was long overdue.

Thane headed for the dormitory, his feet given wings by what awaited him there. He was nearly halfway across the commons, when he heard someone calling to him.

"Krios!" The familiar voice made him stop mid-step. Only one drell would be so boorish as to shout at someone who was well without of earshot, and it was no doubt the drell he least wanted to see right now.

Thane hastened his pace.

If he could just make it to cover before his pursuer caught up, he could disappear until the coast was clear. He was a few scant feet from the dormitory doors, when a strong hand clapped him on the shoulder.

"Luco," Thane said, not bothering to keep the fatigue out of his tone. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Why so formal, brother?" The yellow drell said, oblivious to Thane's plight. He tightened his grip on Thane's shoulders, trapping him in their conversation. "Surely, we know each other well enough that we don't need to stand on ceremony."

At one time, that had been true. But now, Thane wasn't so certain. "And call me Nirrin."

"Ok, Nirrin," Thane said flatly. He hoped that appeasing his former classmate would help him be rid of him. "What can I do for you?"

Nirrin grinned, coyly. "Come have dinner with me."

Thane looked into Nirrin's eager face and wanted, very badly, to tell him no. But something seemed off about his fellow assassin. There was no ill will between then, but they usually gave each other a wide berth. That Nirrin had sought him out just to invite him to dinner was puzzling.

Thane had spent the last week eating protein bars and rations. He would need to eat real food, sooner rather than later. He might as well indulge his curiosity at the same time.

/*/*/*/

A simple meal of fish, broth, and vegetables left Thane feeling sated and more inclined to listen to whatever it was Nirrin had to say. Thane just wished that he would get to the point.

They'd never tried to force small talk before, and that they were doing so now made Thane uncomfortable. After a lot of trial and error, they discovered that their personalities and interests were so different, that the only topic they could discuss without discomfort was shop.

"How'd your assignment go?" Nirrin asked as he kicked Thane's pack lightly. Thane busied himself with refilling their cups with tea while he debated whether it would be better to lie or to tell the truth. Nirrin picked up on his hesitance and acted on it, just as they'd been trained to.

"That bad, huh?"

"...It's but a minor impediment."

"I have no doubt", Nirrin said as he took a long sip of tea. Thane could see a grin tugging his lips on either side of his cup. "It was the laser sight, wasn't it?"

"Yes," Thane confessed, reluctantly. It was relic from their training days, and a bad habit he wished he could shake. Embarrassment bloomed in him anew.

"Still can't get around that, huh?" Nirrin clucked his tongue, delighting in seeing Thane so frazzled.  
"It would appear not."

Nirrin grinned slyly, behind his mug. "The more things change, the more they stay the same."  
It was an odd human expression that he had picked up from one of the instructors, but it was oddly apt. They shared a laugh and briefly reminisced about their training days.

"And speaking of change," Nirrin went on, as the laughter died down. "I'm leaving the Compact."

Thane froze, grateful that he hadn't yet taken a sip from his steaming mug. "Come again?"

"I think you heard me the first time." All the mirth left his eyes, replaced with battle hardened focus and determination. "I've already spoken to Shrimaanharkaara about it, and I have his blessing."

"Why would you want to leave?" Most drell in the Compact were enthralled by the idea of being able to do something so noble. Thane never understood how anyone could just walk away from it all.

"Something...changed."

"What changed?" Thane had never known a drell who'd left the hanar's service personally, so this seemed as good a time as any to quiz Nirrin on his decision. Were they really that different?

Nirrin shifted uncomfortably under Thane's scrutiny. He slowly blinked both sets of lids as he searched his thoughts.

Thane leaned in closer, his voice hushed. "Is it a woman?" Taking on a lover wasn't forbidden by the rules of the Compact, but anything longer than a simple liaison wasn't often done. Speaking to someone who had stayed with the same lover for longer than a few weeks was also a first for Thane.

Nirrin glared at Thane, as if sizing him up before he nodded. He fished a few scraps of paper from his jacket pocket and held them delicately in his hand. He slid the first across the table to Thane.

"Her name's Ja'nera She also lives under the Compact. We're leaving together."

Thane looked from the paper, to Nirrin before picking it up. It was a well creased photo printout of a female drell. She was looking at the camera, a shy smile on her lips.

"She's pregnant, Thane." He slid the second paper across the table, and Thane picked it up. From the darkened photo, he could make out the beginnings of a tiny drell. "I'm going to be a father." Nirrin smiled, but it was muddled by uncertainty. "I want to make a life for her, for them. I can't do that here."

Thane regarded the photos. Nirrin was getting dangerously sloppy. If he ever fell on the field, and these were found on him, they too would be at risk. Not even personal files stored on an omnitool were safe from the right sources. A good enough assassin wouldn't need a name, or an address. He could see that they were drell, and that would narrow down the places he'd have to search to seek retribution. It was a stupid risk on both their parts.

Both Nirrin and Ja'nera had become distracted and lost sight of what was really important. Nothing came before their duty. Nothing...

The memory of Arashu in the flesh flashed past his eyes. The woman, her arms outstretched, protecting Marna with her very life, Thane's reluctance to take the shot.

He shook himself free of her spell and slid the photos back to Nirrin. "Why are you telling me this?"  
Nirrin gathered his tray and mug before standing up from the table. He smiled, a sick, weakly shadow of a smile, and stood beside Thane.

"I've only told the ones that matter. You and Shrimaanharkaara are about the only ones who would notice that I've left."

The idea gave Thane pause.

Thane stood beside Nirrin and gripped the other drell's shoulder. "May Arashu guide you on your journey."


	3. Chapter 3

There was something oddly disquieting about the unknown building after dark. The large utilitarian construct stuck out like a sore thumb amongst its aesthetically designed neighbors. Bleak, white plaster walls surrounded it, with no windows to let in subtle traces of moonlight.  
It looked the same at night as it did in broad daylight.

Besides making the building appear inelegant, the design also put Thane at a distinct disadvantage. At a glance, the front door was the easiest way inside, but it was locked. If Thane hacked it incorrectly, an alarm would undoubtedly go off.

Its lack of windows made it impossible to tell who or what would be awaiting Thane inside. A quick survey of the building yielded another entrance, but Thane was hesitant to take it.

At the back of the building, set on the ground was an air-conditioning unit, similar to those mounted on rooftops, and beside it, an exhaust vent leading into the building.

Thane stared into the dark passage, annoyed with his own hesitance. He knew that when a mission hinged on make a decision, one's personal preference took a back seat to efficiency. But that didn't make him feel any better about the prospect of fumbling around in the dark.

Steeling himself with thoughts of Honored Messenger and the vows not to fail him again, Thane crawled on hand and knee into the vent.

Once inside the passage dipped sharply and deposited Thane on a sub-floor in the bowels of the building. He waited, listening for sounds of life before exiting the shaft, to the right of a single, large elevator.

The floor was lined with doors that stretched from floor to ceiling, and as wide across as two drell standing arm-to-arm. A dull, steady hum prevailed in the darkness.

The refrigeration units crossed the floor as far as Thane could see. It wouldn't pay to stay here.

Carefully he followed the staircase down to the next level. He opened the door a crack and listened: no footsteps, no voices, no mechanical hum.

Crouching low, he left the safety of the stairwell and accessed his surroundings. He was beside a row of open cubicles, too high for him to see over. Sidling to the end of the aisle, he chanced a glance around the corner.

Each row held ten to fifteen cubicles, each housing various supplies: vials, pipettes, microscopes, slides and small personal terminals. The place reeked of disinfectant, as if it recently cleaned thoroughly.

In the center of the floor, was a room, closed off from all the rest. It had tinted glass walls and a glass-paneled door. Through it, Thane saw a large terminal, along with filing cabinets, with labels on them. This looked to be data storage.

The lock opened easily enough, and Thane quickly slipped inside. A large sleeping computer dominated the room.

Fumbling in his back, Thane retrieved the imaging device and set it on the desk. It was a clever device, designed to transfer the contents of the hard drive of one device to another.

As the monitor powered on, he fished out his companion device. Going by size alone, this terminal's hard drive would hold more information than his omnitool could handle. His omnitool acted as an intermediary between the two devices, asking if Thane was sure he wanted to copy all data.

Without much else to do, Thane waited and listened, trying to keep his mind occupied. It wasn't long before his thoughts strayed to thoughts of the person whose fault it was that he was here in the first place.

Her interference had ruined him. It wasn't the first mission that Thane hadn't completed successfully, but the reason why left him shaken.

His mind still nagged at him that she was Arashu made flesh, and that he should seek her out, but his own logical reasoning told him that was an idle fancy. It hadn't happened for hundreds of years, if the old stories were to be believed. Some believed that the drell had left their Gods behind on Rakhana, and didn't answer the prayers of those who deserted their home world.

He needed to move on. To push this girl out of his mind as best he could and reclaim his honor. There were thousands of drell in the city, and the chances of him seeing her again were slim. Part of him was thankful for those odds. The other part was surprisingly disappointed.

A light chirp from the imaging device brought him from his thoughts. Its task completed, Thane stuffed it back in his bag. Thane crept out of the data room and headed back for the stairs. If he could forego the vents on his way up, he would.

"Hold there," an odd voice called from behind him. Thane stopped in his tracks for a heartbeat.

He'd been lucky enough that the guard hadn't been on this end of the floor when he'd arrived but had stayed too long. Thane broke into a run, the guard yelling at his back.

Thane didn't want to engage the civilian. He was just doing his job, and his skills should have been nothing compared to Thane's own finely honed skills. Bullets whizzed by, and Thane ducked behind a row of cubicles.

The bullets stopped, replaced by the clacking of mechanical feet. The guard had activated a set of security mechs. Those, Thane had no compunctions about dispatching.

He popped out from his hiding place and put a few well-placed shots into the first robot's mechanical brain. The machine shuddered and collapsed in a heap.

The other mech was nowhere in sight, so Thane took the opportunity to press on towards the stairs. When he rounded the corner and found the mech waiting for him just in front of the door leading to the stairs.

Short on time, Thane approached the mech straight on, and incapacitated it with another round.

In the moment it took for Thane to catch his breath, the guard caught up to him. He started firing on Thane, who dove into the stairwell. Fire licked up his side.

Thane fired haphazardly, trying more to scare the guard into hiding, rather than hit him, before darting up the staircase. The pain seared through him as he forced himself back into the vent.

Emerging in the night air, Thane sped away as fast as he could, trying to put as much space between the building and himself as possible.

Every part of this assignment was more complicated than it should have been, and Thane couldn't wait for it to finally be over.


	4. Chapter 4

The chilled night air was a welcome change of scenery from too many bodies crammed in a space too small to accommodate them all.

Irikah had joined in the semester-end revelry under duress. Tori wanted to thank Irikah for rescuing her in her time of need, and she did it the best way she knew how: she bought Irikah a drink.

Around Tori, drinks tended to multiple like vorcha. Irikah decided to call it a night before it was too late. She bid her friend goodnight, shouting over the speakers before venturing out into the night.

The major disadvantage of living and working inside the domed was that the plastic that shielded the drell from the elements also deprived them of its beauty.

The air often tasted stale, and no breezes ever filtered in. The dome muted he warmth from the sun, but the worst part of it all was the stars.

Though others would disagree, Irikah felt that inside of the dome, the starts didn't shine nearly as brightly as they did outside, obscured by centimeters of unyielding plastic. And on a starlit night like this one, it would be criminal not to view them in all their glory.

Irkiah exited the dome, and let the air wash over her. She loved the chill made the stars gleam like diamonds set just out of reach. Someday, she'd like to get a home somewhere far from the domed cities, where she could see the stars the way they were meant to be seen.

She stayed close to the doors, not straying far from the entrance. Just a quick peek, and then she'd hurry home.

Time seemed to slow down when Irikah was watching the stars. Everything else fell away until it was just her and their brilliant light. She knew that her feet would go numb long before she tired of looking at them. She'd need to tear herself away sooner, rather than later.

Turning to retrace her steps back to the door, Irikah heard hurried footsteps thundering up behind her. He collided with her shoulder and spun her around. She regained her balance in time to see the startled face of a harried young sere as he rushed past her.

The young sere stared in her direction, though Irikah wasn't sure if he was looking at her or through her.

"Are you alright?" Irikah asked, as the young sere swayed, watching her with cautious eyes. Irikah took a step towards him, but stayed at a safe distance. Covered in dust, deep cuts in his clothes, he looked as if he'd been running for his life. "Do you need help?" She tried again. This time she saw a glimmer of recognition flit behind his eyes.

She expected him to take off running, when she took a step closer, but instead, the stranger suddenly dropped to his knees.

He laced his fingers together in the dirt and pressed his forehead against his joined hands.

"Goddess of mercy, please forgive me." The words came out as shaky sobs, making Irikah take a step back.

To say it was out of the ordinary to say a prayer in the middle of a deserted street would be generous. This young sere was disturbed, or some sort of religious zealot and Irikah wanted nothing to do with either.

Irikah considered taking her chances and skirting around him, and darting back within the city limits, and would have if not for a pang of conscience. If he really was disturbed, she couldn't leave him there. Calling the authorities seemed like the best course of action.

And then she saw it.

A pool of dark blood had formed beneath the young sere who had yet to raise his head. And it was still flowing.

At this late hour, there was no telling when emergency medical services would get to him quick enough, or even if he would stay put while she found a public comm terminal and the time they actually arrived.

It was impossible to tell the severity of the injuries from where Irikah stood, but the blood showed no signs of stopping. The vital fluid continued to trickle from some unknown source. Irikah was no doctor, but it didn't look good.

Irkiah bit down on the inside of her cheek as she stepped closer. Her decision had already been made; she just hoped she wouldn't regret it.

Slowly, she touched his shoulder, thinking that the better option that shouting "Hey, you" at him. Irkiah breathed a sigh of relief when he didn't lash out at her.

The face that rose to meet her gaze was exhausted, from weariness or the loss of blood. She was certain she had never seen him before, yet he looked at her with a bewildered recognition that set Irikah's teeth on edge.

"Please, come with me," she said, surprised that she was actually doing this. "Let me help you." The canister of anti-personnel spray gripped tightly, Irikah prayed she wouldn't have to use it.

The young sere rose and did as he was told.


	5. Chapter 5

Thane had never had the "pleasure" of being in a civilian dwelling before. They lived so simple and oblivious of all the people who would do them harm just outside of their doors.

The apartment was far from secure. There was nothing to keep intruders out apart from the locks on the door and even they weren't as secure as they could be. A large wall separated the rest of the home from the front room, blocking a view if anyone broke in. The front room itself was cluttered littered with lots of pottery and equipment Thane assumed was for making such things that could be hid behind. The occupant would never know that something was amiss until they were right on top of the intruder, and then it would be too late.

But there may not even be a need for a wrongdoer to break into this abode, since his host welcomed strangers into her home willingly. That this woman lived alone, confident that she was safe, boggled his mind.

Thane's lips pressed into a hard line. He kept trying to convince himself that it wasn't any of his business...

"Are you alright?" The girl at his side asked. She stopped a moment and peered up at him.

Thane nodded.

Seated amongst a wealth of unglazed bowls and half-formed vases, she'd cleaned his wound as best she could, but hadn't done much else. It was obvious that she didn't do well with blood or injuries, but she was trying.

Orange eyes bored into him, and at this range, they were even more intense than they'd been through the scope.

They were how he'd recognized her earlier. In that brief moment when he'd run into her, their eyes met.

Bright, almost luminous eyes shone from a teal colored face. The contrast was so striking, so rare… He knew it had to be her.

It was more than a coincidence that he'd come across her at this hour, in this place. He defaulted to logical reasoning to explain this meeting, but his mind stalled, unable to rationalize away what he knew in his heart to be true: their meeting had been dictated by the divine.

Overcome, he fell to his knees, head pressed into the dirt, groveling before her, and the little goddess took pity on him.

She'd done more than enough for him within the last hour. She didn't need to force herself anymore. Thane rummaged through the supplies she'd brought for something suitable to patch himself up with.

The woman watched with a mixture of horror and fascination as Thane poked and prodded the gash, making sure it was as minor as he'd first assumed.

The bullet had grazed his side, just above his hip. The wound wasn't fatal, but it wasn't pretty either. And it hurt. He sealed the wound with nano-foam and covered it with a bandage as quickly as he was able.

He turned to face and bowed as deeply as his injury would allow, his eyes cast towards the floor.

"I'm alright. Thank you for your concern, _arashanii_."

/*/*/*/

_Arashanii?_

Irikah knew enough about the old Gods to know what that meant, and that the sere was wrong. _Little Arashu_, one who is one with the goddess. Her will made flesh. Irikah barely knew who Arashu was. She hardly claimed act on her behalf.

"I think you're mistaken, sere." She focused on gathering the supplies. Now that his wound was taken care of, he would be leaving soon, hopefully.

"Though you may deny it, I know what I saw." He spoke gravely, as if there was nothing more important than what he was saying right now.

"I did what anyone would have," Irikah tried to play it off. "I couldn't leave you to die in the street."

"Many people would have simply passed me by. If you had done the same, my wounds wouldn't have killed me. I appreciate your help, but that's not what I was referring to."

Irikah took the supplies and shoved them under the bathroom sink. She wasn't sure she wanted to be in the same room with him at this very moment.

"Then what?"

The stranger raised his voice. "A few days ago, you saved the life of another stranger."

Her heart sank into the pit of her stomach. She was glad she was away from him, because she stood gaping at her own reflection. It wasn't a good look.

"You blocked a bullet, meant for someone else." His voice was closer now, like he was right outside of the bathroom. He sounded as if he was in awe of her, as much as he was chastising her. "You had no way of knowing the sniper wouldn't pull the trigger, yet you stayed your ground. It was an incredibly reckless move."

Irikah had to agree. She seemed to be getting even more so as time went on. Jumping in front of bullets one day, bringing home strangers another, she didn't regret the first action, but she was definitely having second thoughts about the latter.

He appeared in the doorway, still stripped to the waist, looking down at her. As casually as she could, she found the mace in her pocket. He watched her, looking almost bored. As if she were no threat to him at all.

"How do you know all of this?" As soon as the question left her mouth, Irikah wished she hadn't asked. She didn't want him to say what she already knew.

"I was the sniper," he said plainly, leaning on the door frame.

This was absurd. If it wasn't a delusion like she hoped, she was trapped in her house with a potential killer. Things like this just didn't happen.

Her head was swimming. She needed to sit down, but she didn't want to unravel in front of him. It didn't seem like a good idea to show any signs of weakness.

She conceded by bracing herself against the wall. She forced a few deep, calming breaths before daring to look at him.

She half expected him to have evaporated, and this was all _her_ delusion. But he was still there.

"Would you like me to prove it to you?" He had the nerve to look amused.

He didn't wait for her to respond before continuing. "You were wearing a dark green jumpsuit with yellow accents with an oversized hood.

"You would have missed my target completely if your papers hadn't blown into the courtyard."

His eyes unfocused as he slipped into a memory of something he had actually witnessed. Drell who were unstable often said odd things, but the truth always laid hidden in their memories. No one who was truly disturbed would willingly face conflicting memories.

The sere was coming around now, all of his prior mirth gone. "You said...To me...'How dare you'...Why did you say that?"

"I-" It had made sense at the time, but now Irikah wasn't so sure. She had no answer for him other than, "Because what you were doing was wrong."

The bathroom was small, but it swallowed up her voice, making her feel small. The young man took a step towards her regarding her like a oddity in a zoo. She pressed her back against the wall.

"I've dealt with many people, and none would have acted as valiantly as you have. Would you still deny who you are? What you are?"

Irkiah fumbled to bring the mace out of her pocket and dropped it on the floor. The stranger watched it roll towards him before kicking it aside.

"I'm not what you say." Her voice sounded shrill, and she shut her eyes to block it out.

As calmly and with as much conviction as she could summon, she said, "I'm going to have to ask you to leave, sere." She pointed in the direction of the front door, as if he might have gotten disoriented on the short trip to the bathroom.

The sere halted in his tracks, looking as if she'd wounded him.

"I'm...I apologize. I didn't mean to offend you." He took a step back, struggling to pull on his shirt. He winced when he bent at the waste. Normally, Irikah would have tried to help him, but she was less inclined to do so now that she knew he'd once trained his gun on her.

"That was not my intention," he tried, but Irikah said nothing in return. She followed at a distance as he backpedaled out of the bathroom, shocked that he was actually listening to her.

He darted around the living room, collecting his things. He moved quickly, despite the gash in his side. He stopped before he reached the front door, turning his gaze on her once again.

"Arashanii, I-" Irkiah shook her head. She couldn't hear any more of this right now, or ever. She needed him gone, now.

The sere snapped his mouth shut, and giving her one last look left the apartment.


	6. Chapter 6

The night that followed was interesting. After the sere vacated her apartment without a fuss, he'd posted up outside Irikah's door. She probably wouldn't have even known he was there if he hadn't started _singing_.

He had a wide repertoire, but the song that seemed to be his favorite was an old hymn in which the speaker lamented falling out of the God's favor, and detailed the lengths he was willing to go to win it back. The song itself was lovely, and the stranger's singing wasn't half bad. Irkiah might even have enjoyed his performance if the song hadn't been so pointedly chosen and directed at her.

Irikah resisted the urge to rush out and shoo him away, mostly because it wouldn't do her any good. If his previous behavior was any guide to go by, telling him to move from in front of her door would only end up with him moving a door down, or across the hall. Irikah let him be as he politely acknowledged people walking through the apartment lobby and singing throughout the night.

He was gone when Irikah awoke the next morning. Slowly Irikah cracked open her door to find that he was gone, leaving behind no trace that he was ever there. If experience had taught Irikah anything, it was that if something seemed too good to be true, it usually was. This wouldn't be the last she would see of him.

Irikah dressed and readied for the day as she would have usually, but when she left her apartment, she gripped the mace in her pocket tightly.

A quick scan of the square in front of her building showed everything looked the same as it always did. Her neighbors waved to her, nothing was out of place. Everything seemed normal.

A little _too_ normal.

Irikah made it as far as the bustling main street when something brushed against her arm. She knew who it was before she turned to look.

"You think I'm crazy," the young sere said as he effortless fell in step beside her, his tone insinuating that the very idea was preposterous. He seemed to have made a full recovery from the state he was in last night. His eyes shone with intelligence, and something else.

"The thought had occurred to me," Irikah said, turning a sharp corner. The sere stuck close to her side.

"I assure you that I am mentally sound, arashani."

"And I should just take your word for it? You must think _I'm_ the one who's crazy."

"What cause have I given you to think such a thing?"

The question stopped Irikah in her tracks. He wanted a reason and she could give him several.

"You stumble into me in the middle of the night, injured and bleeding, babbling about Arashu-"

"Do not mistake my reverence for madness," The young drell cut her off, his tone changing from politely cordial to downright annoyed. "Though people often experience the two simultaneously, the two are not inextricably linked. I called you what you appeared to be. You showed up and selfishly saved others not once, but twice. If that's not an invocation of Arashu, I don't know what is."

The fire behind his eyes died as suddenly as it appeared. "I'm sorry you don't take more pride in your title, but I'm afraid I cannot change it."

Irkiah detected a hint of anguish in his rebuke as he looked away from her face. He did have a point, and Irikah would let him claim that victory, no matter how small it was.

"Alright, barring the topic of Arashu, you told me you all but told me you're a killer. You even claimed to have aimed your gun at me, little more than a week ago. At best, that makes you a liar, and at worse..."

"Yet, you're still here." He let the weight of his words sink in. "You weren't my target."

It was the most frightening experience of Irikah's life. She hadn't known what had come over her and made her jump in the way, but once it had passed she couldn't stop her hands from shaking. Facing the supposed gunman here, in the flesh, Irikah hardly felt any fear at all. She was more disappointed that he didn't match the image of who she'd thought was at the end of that scope.

He was too young, too neat and prim, and too...

"That's not the point."

Green eyes flashed as he turned to her, hands neatly clasped behind his back. "All I've done is tell you the truth. I told you who I was in the interest of disclosure. Did it occur to you that you shouldn't have let me in at all? Would you prefer that I'd lied?"

It wasn't as if she had an open door policy. She had only tried to help out a stranger in that fashion _once_, and what a mistake it had been.

"I would have preferred that you didn't nearly knock me down in the middle of the street, then we never would have met."

Indignant, Irikah turned to go, but the stranger moved to stop her. Before he made contact, he thought better of it and let his hand grasp uselessly at thin air.

"Forgive me... I've managed to offend you, again. My experience in dealing with civilians leaves much to be desired."

"What do you mean _civilians_? Are you in the military?"

As far as Irkiah knew, the hanar didn't routinely enlist drell into their defense force, instead preferring to outsource. Drell numbers were so scarce; it seemed odd to save them, only to send them off to their deaths. Though, if he was, it would put a pleasant spin on this whole affair.

The sere shook his head, proving her assumptions correct.

"No. Not military. I'm dedicated."

"You're a part of the Compact?" Irkiah knew at once, that her disbelief sounded.

This wasn't the first time Irikah had met a drell dedicated to the Compact, but it was the first real conversation she'd had with one. They were a world apart from their unchosen brethren. Their temples weren't open to the public unless you were dedicating yourself or a child, and when encountered in the streets of Kahje, they were so singularly focused, they left no time for small talk. Irikah tried to engage a particular young lady who worked as a liaison between community leaders and the hanar in a discussion about the weather, she was politely rebuffed.

The young man looked completely out of his element, watching her expectantly for any cues that would help him decipher the tone of the conversation. It was almost sad.

Irikah sighed. "Let's say, for the sake of argument, that I believe you. Why were you aiming your gun at that man?"

At first, Irikah didn't think he was going to answer, an unhappy note of distress leaving him.

Finally, he answered, "It's my duty."

/*/*/*/

Thane was saying too much again, though at least this time he did so coherently. The young woman didn't look shocked or frightened as she had last night. When he chanced a glance into her eyes, he saw only curiosity and more than a little skepticism.

"So wait," she clapped a hand to her forehead, as if the gesture would help her focus, "the hanar want you to kill people?"

"They don't_ want_ to, but sometimes it's necessary. No great empire earns or keeps its position without some bloodshed."

An uneasy silence fell over them. Thane was taught that normal drell lived on a different plane from him. There were some things they just wouldn't understand, and this appeared to be one of them.

"Are you going to kill me?" The young woman moved closer to him, as if daring him. She already knew the answer.

"No." Thane could have killed her ten times over, and no one would know, and least of all, there would have been nothing she could do. If he truly wanted to kill her, she never would have seen it coming.

Logically, the implication made sense. It wasn't every day one knowingly made contact with an assassin, and when one did, the outcome wasn't usually a good one. Still, Thane felt oddly offended.

"What's your name?"

The question caught Thane off guard, and for a moment, he wasn't sure how to answer. He had expected her to hurl accusations, and ask prying questions, behavior common when handling something one didn't understand.

"Thane. Thane Krios," he said, once he had collected himself.

"How long have you been dedicated?"

"Since I was very young, two or three."

"And this is what they've been training you to do all this time?"

Thane wasn't sure the question required an answer, as she seemed to be asking it more of herself than him. He felt the truth would only upset her, and he couldn't bring himself to lie.

The young woman blew out a long slow breath, her face inscrutable.

"Wow...That's some story, Thane."

"Then you believe me?"

"I didn't say that... You... You're not what I expected and you've given me something to think about." She raised a brow as she peered into his face. "Why did you tell me all of this?"

"I wanted you to understand."

"Why me?"

Thane couldn't put it into words. He should have left hours ago; instead he'd waited for her to wake up so he could explain himself to her without the pretense of him being an injured lunatic. He wanted him to see her for who he was, but he didn't have an answer as to why.

She was different from anyone he'd yet to meet, directly or through the end of his scope.

The girl looked up at him expectantly. She was being as patient as she could, but clearly she had left her home with a purpose in mind. She had some place to be, and now that he'd found a lead from reviewing the files gleaned from the unmarked building, so did he. If they wanted for Thane to find an answer, they'd be here all day.

"I've delayed you too long," he said returning to as neutral a stance as he could conjure. "I won't trouble you any further."

"You aren't troubling me, "the girl said, though she looked relieved to finally have a break in the tension, "but I do need to be on my way. Will I see you again?"

She wanted to see him again?

"Why?" It was his turn to look puzzled and confused.

"Well you already know where I live," she shrugged, "and it's not as if I could really stop you if you came by again, so I figure why not invite you?"

Thane frowned. "I'm not the brute you seem to think I am."

"That remains to be seen." She smiled for the first time since they'd met, and it was powerful as her glare of disapproval. Thane felt his heart nearly thunder out of his chest.

He instinctively put a hand to his side, testing the sensitivity of his wound. He'd be making a stop back at the temple to have his wound examined. Hopefully he hadn't contracted an infection.

"My name is Irikah, by the way." She hastily gave a shallow bow, pausing for propriety, but not too long. "It's usually a good policy to introduce yourself and ask for someone's name when you meet them for the first time."

"Would you have given it to me if I'd asked you last night?"

Irkiah shook her head. "Probably not."

She lifted her bag high on her shoulder, readying to go. "Until we meet again, Thane."

"Until then," and she turned and left.

Thane watched her until she was out of sight, and he was left standing alone. He hoped he wouldn't have to wait too long.


	7. Chapter 7

Thane had seen the Mahad-Aza Medical Center many times before, albeit at a distance. Spanning eight city blocks, it was by far the largest and most recognizable structure on the city's skyline. It was a world renounced medical facility, but Thane had been fortunate enough to never be injured enough to be inside it, until now.

Marna was inside, and while Thane had no idea of where, he knew he had to try. This would be a dry run, to determine what places would yield information about his whereabouts, how potent their security was... It almost felt like a step backwards, but it was more to go on that he'd had a few days ago.

Mahad-Aza lead the field in Kepral's research, so that seemed like the cover that would least rouse suspicion, and it was the only way he could get in that didn't require mortal injury to himself.

He tugged at his collar; the high stiff fabric irritated his throat. The concierge he was to meet would be expecting an affluent man of some breeding. He had to look the part.

"Sere Chandak?" A small voice called to Thane's right, and he turned to see a young sera timidly approach.

She was dressed smartly in the pale blue uniform of the facility that cooled down the deep red of her skin. Something in her face reminded Thane of Nirrin's lover- though she could very well be his wife by now. Pretty, naive, lost... Thane batted the thought away.

Thane forced a facsimile of a warm smile and nodded to the woman.

"You must be Samsuk, I recognized your voice from our conversation earlier." He gave a curt half bow, suited to the status he pretended to have.

"It's an honor to have you here, sere." Samsuk flushed, bowing low. "Please, allow me to give you a tour."

Samsuk guided Thane through the building, making idle small talk as they went, but soon, Thane grew tired of it. He had chosen a persona that could stay aloof, and make up for his awkwardness. Espionage had been Nirrin's area of expertise. The yellow drell was able to effortlessly blend in with a situation, and make others feel at ease. What Thane would have done to have use of Nirrin's skills now, or better yet, have him here instead.

"You're here on your mother's behalf?" Samsuk asked while they waited for an elevator and the lull in conversation had stretched on too long for her liking.

"Yes. She was diagnosed with Kepral's a year and a half ago." It was a common enough occurrence that the story sounded plausible. "Our regular doctor fears it has advanced beyond what she can handle. So now, I look to you.

"I realize that a cure is a lot to ask for, but If anything, I'd just like her to be comfortable." The lines sounded a bit too clinical, and Thane tried to damper them with a look of regret, though he wasn't sure he was doing it properly.

"Our hospice care is one of the best on Kahje," Samsuk said sounding overly proud. "As is our research department. If anything can be done for your mother, we'd be the ones to do it." She reached out a hand and touched his arm. "You've come to the right place."

"Truly, you have given me hope," Thane said, covering her hand with his. A dark flush colored Samsuk's throat. Inwardly, he cringed. He had an aim to meet, and Samsuk was just a means to that end. He found it infinitely easier to lie to the girl than it had been with Irkiah, but the reason why eluded him.

This is the opening Thane had been waiting for. The files Thane had copied showed that they had been transferred to the research center. If nothing else, there would be another clue to where Marna was from there. At best, he would see the man himself. "I've already seen your hospice center, and it was truly impressive, but I wonder if I might see your research department?"

Samsuk removed her hand, as they boarded the elevator. The doors closed, but she didn't choose a destination. She rolled her bottom lip between her teeth, looking up at him with large, purple eyes. She was considering it.

Finally she said, "It isn't usually open to the public."

Thane nodded, as if that was the most natural answer. "What is your policy on prospective investors?"

The little red drell cocked her head to the side, emitting a low, steady flute of confusion.

"If I do leave my mother in your care," Thane explained, "It would only do for me to help fund the research effort." Thane tried to quell his revulsion at the way her face lit up when money was mentioned.

Samsuk pressed the button for the 30th floor, tossing Thane a coy grin.

"Alright, but we can't stay very long."

/*/*/*/

They rode the elevator down to one of the lower floors. Through the glass cage, Thane watched as the floors sprung upon them. The floor that housed the research department was identical to the underground facility Thane had visited before, though the set up looked very different when fully occupied.

When the elevator stopped on the research floor, Samsuk swiped a keycard. Looking dutifully bored, Thane made a note to relieve her of it later. The same huge refrigerators Thane had seen before surrounded the area around the elevator. People in gray coats ran back and forth between them and the many rows of cubicles.

They stretched on as far as he could see, each with a specialist -drell, salarian, hanar, and even elcor- hunched over their terminals or samples.

"This is where most of our applied research takes place," Samsuk offered. All of these people are specialists in a various fields: genetics, respiratory science, biochemistry."

As Samsuk lead Thane down the aisles and towards the other end of the floor, not once did any of the scientists look up to acknowledge their presence.

"Over here is the head of our research department." They stopped just short of a large office set in the back wall. Shades were drawn over its large windows, blocking all outside light. Seated at the desk was the man they'd come to see.

Samsuk leaned her head into the office, knocking gently on the door. "Dr. Marna?"

The drell seated at the desk looked up at the pair, and Thane recognized him instantly.

The man before him seemed to have aged years from when the photo in his file was taken, but Thane knew it couldn't have been more than a few months. Stress had taken its toll, and left its mark around his eyes and mouth. Those same eyes narrowed at the interruption, but he kept his tone even.

"What can I do for you, Samsuk?"

"You have a visitor, doctor. This is Sere Chandak. He was interested in enrolling his mother in our program, and he wanted to meet the head of the research department _personally_."

Marna caught her meaning and motioned for them to come inside.

Thane took in his surroundings as covertly as he could. Marna's office was a mess. There were data pads and OSDs all over his desk with some of the runoff littering the floor around it. On a shelf behind Marna was a photo of him and another drell- male, turquoise- from a time when Marna seemed to be much more carefree, and much younger.

Marna bowed hastily, staying just to Thane's right.

"Forgive my prior rudeness, sere. Your visit caught me unawares."

"It's my fault," Thane returned the bow curtly. "I should have made an appointment first.

Marna accepted the apology with the societal grace his status dictated. He invited Thane to sit in the uncluttered guest chair before taking his own seat. As Thane stood before the desk, he noticed the bedroll and pillow that had seen much wear, shoved into a corner behind Marna's desk. It seemed likely the doctor spent many late nights pouring over his work, and with some frequency.

"Now that you have me here, sere, is there anything you'd like to ask?"

Thane had prepared a battery of questions, but it was hard to choose one that didn't sound rehearsed, so Thane played it off the cuff.

"Could you try to explain what it is you people do here, exactly? Science isn't my area of expertise, so you'll have to go slowly."

Marna looked surprised but kept it out of his tone. "In the simplest terms… we look for a cure. Hundreds of us succumb to Kepral's every year. We're dying at a rate faster than we reproduce. At this rate, in fifty years, there won't be more than a handful of us left.

"The best course of action would be for us to leave Kahje altogether and settle on a planet whose ecosystem better fit our biological needs. But to the general populous, to suggest such a thing is akin to blasphemy." He paused, cutting his eyes at Samsuk who lingered in the doorway, unaffected.

"Since we cannot persuade our people to do what is best for them, we must do what we can to help them." Thane nodded politely, as if he truly understood or cared. If Marna wanted to talk, Thane would let him. He had time to spare, now that he knew where to find him.

Marna went on for nearly an hour, going over the minute details of how samples were extracted, analyzed, cataloged, and what all of this meant in terms of finding a viable treatment.

"I'm sure you're aware that none of this could be possible without generous donations from numerous benefactors." He looked at Thane pointedly. "If you choose to fund us, you won't only be helping your mother, but future generations."

"That's a heavy burden to put on me, doctor." Thane wasn't a man of science, but even he knew the outlook seemed bleak. Marna was hoping that a personal stake would influence Sere Chandak to invest in something that would probably not yield any results in his own lifetime, let alone his mother's.

"Believe me, I do understand that sere, and I don't do so lightly."

Thane stood, feeling he'd gotten all he could from this visit, and needed to draw it to a close. "Allow me some time to think about it, Doctor Marna, and I'll inform you of my decision in a few days."

Marna stood and bowed again, this time much lower than before. "Thank you for listening."

Samsuk lead Thane to the entrance and bid him farewell, just as he picked her pocket. Thane assured her he would be back soon, just not when she was around.

/*/*/*/

Returning back to the temple, Thane loosened his damnable collar and stewed over all of the information he'd taken in. It seemed odd that the hanar would order the death of someone so potentially important. Thane tried to shove his misgivings aside, but they continued to nag at him.

The types of lives his targets lived had never been a factor before. Thane had felt secure that their presence on his list had been justified, and he'd carried out his orders without question. But something about this hit just felt... Different.

As if..._something changed. _

Nirrin flashed in Thane's mind, and as quickly as the memory appeared, Thane tried to ground it out.

Nothing had changed; Thane hadn't changed. And he would prove it. He would eliminate Marna, but before that, he had to see Irkiah. He'd prove that he wasn't slipping. That she could be the same as Samsuk. He'd prove it Nirrin, and most importantly, himself.


	8. Chapter 8

"I didn't expect to see you so soon," Irikah said, though it wasn't completely true. She didn't think he would come back so soon, but she had hoped. It had been just two days since he'd dropped into her life and turned everything she knew upside-down, but in that time, she'd done a lot of thinking, and a lot of research.

In the public archives, there were a lot of holes that corroborated Thane's story. Accounts of people-criminals, dissidents, people too dangerous to live- going missing, disappearing from the public eye with no one kicking up a fuss to figure out why. These instances went as far back to fifteen years after the first drell touched down on Kahje. That something like this had gone beneath public notice for so long seemed strange, but Irikah wasn't the first to think so.

In her searching, she stumbled across an article called_ Out of Arashu's Sight: Rakhana's Lost Children. _In it, the author detailed his theories on what happened to children in the compact, and more specifically, those raised from birth to commit acts of violence. Things that every free drell took for granted, these children were denied; to play without it being disguised as a training exercise, to just be children, to be themselves... The article, already several years old, was meant to be the first in a series of exposes, but this was the only part published, and the last work from the author. Irikah tried not to imagine his fate.

The young man standing at her door now, one of Rakhana's lost children, looked very uncomfortable. His mind was no doubt racing through the last time he'd stood here, and was forcibly ejected from her home. Irikah was being a bad host.

"Please, come in." Irikah quickly stood aside, and with a bit of coaxing, he entered.

Irikah rushed to clear a seat of some of her pottery supplies, glaze, paints and the like. She motioned for Thane to sit, before darting to the kitchen for a drink. She returned to find him examining one of her unfinished mugs. It was tall, cylindrical, with ridges along its sides for grip. She'd been partial to that one herself.

"You can have it, if you like," she said, almost startling the mug from his fingers. "Once it's glazed, it's yours." Thane said nothing as he set the mug back on the table. Irikah made careful note of which one had caught his interest.

Setting the glass of water in front of him, she pulled a chair closer. For someone who had told her much of his life story the last time they'd met, he was disturbingly quiet.

"So, sere," she started, eager to get the ball rolling, "to what do I owe the pleasure?"

Eyes focused on the table, he didn't answer right away. He probably wasn't even sure of it himself.

"I did some reading," Irikah said, unable to bear the silence, "about the Compact, about you." He looked up then. "Not you, specifically, but drell like you. How old were you when you went to the temple?"

"Three years," he said finally.

"That's so very young..." Irkiah hadn't intended to sound sad, but she couldn't keep it from creeping into her voice. "Do you remember much about your family?"

"My last memory of them was the day they left me at the temple, but not much else. When you're younger, everything moves at a blur. They told me it was an honor, not that I could understand what that meant at the time."

"Now that you understand, do you feel that way?"

"Yes. It is noble work. What they ask in return is nothing compared to what they've done for me."

She nodded. There was nothing to be gained in arguing with him. What had been done to him, taking away his freedom to choose, to determine, on his own what was right and what was wrong, was inexcusable. In her wildest dreams, she never would have imagined the hanar capable of such a thing. Surely there were those who would have volunteered for such a thing willingly. Guilt settled in her gut like lead at the thought of how many families had been broken up to aid the hanar, how many children disconnected.

There was nothing she could do to change his past, but she could at least try to help him now.

"Do you trust me, Thane?"

For once, she'd caught him off guard. He looked as surprised by the question as she was to ask it. He hesitated. It wouldn't have been right if it was too easy. Misplaced trust was something that meant more than mere hurt feelings; it was a mistake that could cost him his life. Emotions flitted across his face, as he weighed the question.

"Yes." His expression was unsure, yet one-hundred percent honest.

Irikah at once felt relieved and honored. Confident that her own trust had been rightly given, she stood. "Then come with me. I have something I want to show you."

/*/*/*/

They sat on small benches suspended by chains tethered to a bar overhead. This contraption was clearly meant for children. Their legs dragged against the ground, and had to be tucked tightly beneath them to get any movement. Irikah was an expert at it, with a remarkable technique. After two failed attempts to get started, Thane sat, embarrassed, and watched her.

"Why don't you try it?" She called, midflight. Her robes couldn't keep up with her, cascading behind her like a comet's tail one moment, and engulfing her in a cloud of orange fabric the next.

"Because it's ridiculous," Thane said tersely.

When she'd asked him if he trusted her, he wasn't sure what he thought would come next, but it wasn't this. After much scrambling around, they left her apartment. Irikah was the only one who knew where they were going, and she refused to tell him. "It's a surprise," she insisted, and to tell him would ruin it. In Thane's experience, surprises were to be avoided.

They kept the setting sun at their backs as Irikah lead them to Gods only knew here, and Thane was on the alert. It wasn't that he didn't trust her. On the contrary, he confessed as much. He didn't trust everyone else. Walking in broad daylight, on a busy street felt foolish.

It was an assumption among civilians that all those who would do ill did so under the cover of darkness. But this was false. All it took was for the right person to be not paying attention at the right time, and they could be made a victim. And in a crowd this large, there were so many directions the unexpected could come from, and only one of him. Irikah led them on, so carefree, so confident. It was foolish, yet he still found himself envious.

Thane wasn't sure why he was here. At first it had been a test of will. This woman -he wouldn't dare say her name- shouldn't be any different to handle than the one from the medical center. He'd gone to her to prove it, but when it came to just how he would accomplish this, his idea fell flat. But by then, it was too late to try to recover. He was already outside her door, had already run the bell. And when she answered, he had been undone. She looked as she had the day he first saw her, eyes bright, luminous and effortlessly pretty. She wore robes the color of her eyes, and it was definitely a color that suited her. His unannounced visit had taken her aback at first, but her surprise quickly changed into a smile, genuine and brilliant, and he couldn't help feeling it was for him. So he'd followed her.

They stopped at a park in a strange part of town. Though Thane had had many missions all over this city, he'd never been here. Evening was settling around them, and the park was deserted. Irkiah set down the over-sized bag she carried and lead them over to where they were now.

Irikah dismounted her swing and approached Thane. "Why do you think it's_ ridiculous_?" She mimicked his tone, making him feel more so.

"I don't see a point to this..." His protest died as she gripped the chains, her hands just above his. She crouched down so they were almost nose to nose and he couldn't help shrinking away.

"There is no point." She stepped closer, moving Thane and the chain backwards. "Sometimes things are done merely for enjoyment. People don't always walk or drive because they have somewhere to do. They don't meet up with others merely to see how they can benefit. They do so because they enjoy their company, they enjoy being out." She kept moving steadily; Thane's toes were just brushing the floor. "There's more to life than merely moving through it, going through the motions. You have to live it. You have to have mindless fun. Let me show you that fun." She let go of the chain and dove to the side, sending Thane flying along the little track. He tucked his feet under and let the momentum carry him until it stopped. It wasn't a concept he could relate to, but she seemed so earnest... He would at least try.

She took him to several more equally humiliating park attractions. A slide that was far too short and narrow for either of them to properly fit through, and a spinning contraption that made him slightly nauseous.

One enough time had passed, Irikah lead him to a hill overlooking a great chasm just at the city's edge. The sky met the ground, and it was hard to determine where one stopped and one began. She pulled a bright blue cloth from her bag and set it on the ground beneath a tree. Thane was expected to join her, and he did.

Irkiah opened several containers, the odor wafting from each one more pungent than the last.

"Try this," she said, offering him something she'd skewered on a small stick.

"What would make you think that I'm even hungry?"

"You don't have to be hungry just to taste it." She brought it closer to his mouth and like a fish on a lure, he took it.

The flavor hit him hard. It was bitter, and spicy and hot. He tried not to make a face, but knew he'd failed when his mouth began to pucker. It wasn't bad, but it had taken him by surprise. Once his eyes topped watering and his vision cleared, he glared at Irikah, who struggled to keep a handle on her laughter.

"What was _that_?"

"Pickled banju root." She popped a piece into her own mouth without blinking. "Did you like it?"

"'Like' wouldn't be the word I would have chosen, but I didn't hate it."

"Good." She handed him a cup filled with a liquid that looked like ichor. "Now try this." He stared down into the cup, glad to find that his trust of her wasn't implicit. It had no smell, but that could be misleading. It couldn't taste as bad as it looked. Irikah poured her own cup and sipped nonplussed. Hesitantly, Thane took his own.

Sweetness flooded his mouth and threatened to overtake him. The drink tasted of flowers and berries, and the most pleasant warmth radiated out from his middle, through his limbs and down to the soles of his feet. A peaceful calm washed over him, unlike nothing he ever felt.  
Cup drained, he held it out to Irikah for more, but she refilled it with water. He frowned.

"I'm willing to bet that was a first for you, so let's start you off slow, the last thing we need is an inebriated assassin roaming the streets." Irkiah opened another container, and began eating the contents.

"Does that still bother you? That I'm an assassin?"

She looked out over the gorge, the fleeting threads of light painting it in deep greens and blues the farther down you dared to look. "Honestly? Not as much as it did. I think I was more afraid of you being a lunatic, than of you being an assassin. Those are just as dangerous if not more so." He nodded in agreement. "Why did you come to see me today, Thane?"

Suddenly it all came back to him; his original reason for being here, before he got swept along in her flow. He'd wanted to prove that she was like anyone else, that she didn't mean anything, but everything was slipping. Why did she affect him so? Had this been anyone else, a sweet lie would have rolled smoothly off his tongue, instead, he stammered through the truth.

"I…I wanted to see you."

No matter how he'd tried to fool himself otherwise, he knew at the heart of the matter, this was true. She was a curiosity to him, but it was more than that, more than he was willing to admit. Irikah was silent and Thane took a sip of water to occupy his mouth, lest he say something else equally foolish.

Irikah smiled and despite the water he'd just imbibed, his mouth felt desert dry. "I'm flattered. I'm sure there are places you need to be, people who need to be taken care of."

This was true. At the top of his list was Marna, whom Thane had decided to handle this very night. Every second he spent her was one that could have been spent checking over his plans, making sure they were air tight. But now that he'd relented and gone to see her...

"There's no place I'd rather be."

This wasn't right. The mission always came first. The mission was what mattered… But that was before. Before he knew sitting idle wasn't a sin. He thought it would hurt more. That he would feel more guilt. Finishing what he'd started was still important, but with Marna accessible to him at any time, the need to take him out had lost its urgency. Nirrin's words echoed in his head.

Irikah drew her hood around her neck, and for once was speechless. Thane smiled at that. He knew that, soon, he'd have to return to ordinary life. But for now, he'd enjoy this bit of procrastination.


	9. Chapter 9

The admission made her flush, her throat turning a deep blue, almost purple. She trilled, somewhere between discomfort and sadness. Thane was almost afraid he'd offended her.

"Is it alright for you to be here? I mean really, all joking aside. You don't have a curfew or something like that?"

"Do you have a curfew?"

"That's different. I live by myself. I'm—"

"An adult?" Thane finished for her. "I'm also an adult. I may not be as…_socialized_ as you are, but I am at least given that courtesy. I operate alone. I'm accountable for myself. I've even traveled off Kahje a few times." The exact number was four, half of which had been training exercises, but Thane would leave out those details for the sake of making his point. "Besides, if someone here needs a curfew, it would be you."

Irikah narrowed her eyes. "You're never going to let that go, are you?"

"No. Never." Thane stood, clapping the dirt from his hands. "And speaking of which, I should see you home before you decide to assist a rapist."

Irikah scoffed, "You're terrible," but still accepted his help to get to her feet. She left her hand in his as she straightened her robes, and Thane couldn't help studying them.

Compared to his own, they were smooth, unmarred by scars or calluses. These are the hands of someone who hadn't held anything more threatening than a kitchen knife, and probably wouldn't know how to use it to defend herself. The hands of someone who made pottery, who helped strangers she met on the street. They seemed so fragile, so small. If he had truly meant her harm on the day he'd found Marna, the night she'd helped him in the street, or now, there wasn't anything she could do to stop him, yet she remained unafraid and trusting.

"Are you alright?" Her words cut through the fog, and Thane quickly released her hands as if he'd been burned.

With a nod, he helped pack away the picnic items and shouldered the bag. "Shall we go?"

They took a slow walk back to Irikah's home, the conversation light and amicable as night fell around them. Time had always been of the essence. A commodity that was always in short supply, but Thane had never been so happy to waste it. Never before had he been so intoxicated by conversation and another's company. And while he reveled in it, his prudent nature railed at him; this is wrong. There was something else he should be doing. He forced it down.

"Next time, you'll have to let me know when you're coming by. I'll be better prepared to entertain." Her brow plates knitted together. It didn't suit her.

"I assure you, I was more than entertained. You've been very accommodating considering I dropped by so suddenly."

They stopped in front of her building, most of its windows lit, dispelling the darkness.

"I'm sorry I can't see you in."

Irkiah waved away his concern. "I'm only twenty feet from my door. I'll be fine." But Thane knew full well that any number of things could happen in the time it took her to walk that distance. _He_ could happen.

Thane considered walking her in anyway, until she put her hands on his back and pushed him off the stoop.

"Go on," she said, turning towards the door. "You've wasted enough time here for one day." And she was right. Thane headed towards Mahad-Aza, a small smirk on his lips. Apparently, she also had the hands that moved an assassin.

~~*V*~~

For a facility of its size, the medical center's security was disgustingly lax. There were less than five guards on a ground floor that spanned half a city block, and even fewer the higher in the building you climbed. Whether due to negligence, or arrogance, the condition worked in Thane's favor.

The main laboratory was dark, all of the empty terminals powered down for the evening, save for the office at the far end of the floor. Marna's screen glowed, a beacon in the darkness, guiding Thane straight to him. However, Marna wasn't seated at his desk, but stood facing the great windows he'd kept covered during the day. His lab coat lay abandoned on the floor. The city stood out link grains of salt scattered across a dark cloth, and Thane's mind briefly flitted back to his evening: a dark blanket, quiet conversation, a soft hand in his.

"I knew they'd send someone for me," Marna said to Thane's reflection, his shoulders heaving with a sigh, "and I should have known it was going to be you." Marna looked as if he hadn't slept since Thane had last seen him. His eyes drooped; the once vibrant purple scales of his face were ashen and dull.

"You were too good to be true." A wry smile creased his features that didn't quite meet his eyes. "You seemed too conscious, too genuinely interested in our work, to be a real benefactor. You have to practically fight with them to make them see that their people are dying around them, and even then, they can't be bothered to part with more than the parsimonious of sums. Barely enough to pay researchers. Hardly enough to buy slides…" Marna moved to his desk and picked up the photograph of himself and the smiling, turquoise drell. "Time was running out. I had to make them listen."

Thane didn't want to listen. He should have taken Marna out before he walked into the room. The man looked so pained, as if spilling the darkness in his soul would give him solace. Thane felt compelled to let him finish.

"These were the type of people who only respond to tangible threats. Only once it comes knocking at their door. If they wouldn't help me, they were useless. Just a drain on society. I had to get rid of them, and make an example of them. But I was too late…" There was a faraway look in his eye as he traced his fingers over the photo, before bringing it to his lips. "I don't regret what I did. Any of it, though, I feel like I might have gotten disconnected along the way." He set the photograph back down.

"But I have one thing to ask of you, sere. Will it hurt? The way you'll kill me?"

Thane struggled to find his voice. He'd seen larger, stronger, more menacing men beg, when they'd been unfortunate enough to see him when he came for them. Far and few between were those who accepted their fate with stoicism. For once, it was difficult to stay detached.

Thane shook his head as he came further into the room. "You won't feel a thing."

Marna chortled dryly. "That's more than I deserve." He turned back towards the window, hands clasped behind his back as he looked out at the city below.

"I am ready."


	10. Chapter 10

The news was called it a suicide, but as they flashed the photo of the man she'd saved in the courtyard, she knew it was a lie.

They alleged that Dr. Ismat Marna had jumped from his thirtieth floor office in the middle of the night, overcome with grief, guilt and frustration. His domestic partner, Erio Marna, suffering from the late stages of Kepral's had lapsed into a coma earlier in the week, and wasn't expected to recover.

Marna's research had been hampered by lack of funding and public interest. Claiming to be on the verge of a breakthrough, Marna had petitioned private and public organizations for help, but was declined. In a fit of vengeance, he sent the heads of said organizations cards laced with a synthesized virus that emulated symptoms of Kepral's syndrome at an accelerated rate, ultimately leading to death. They were pinning Marna for at least 30 confirmed deaths, but Irikah knew who was responsible for his.

It made sense that the hanar would want Marna stopped, but surely there had to have been another way. The world had lost a brilliant mind, and a viable cure might have been pushed back months, if not years. Surely, he could have been of more use jailed, rather than murdered. But the hanar needed to make an example, and they used Thane to do it.

After much pacing and worrying of lips, she typed him a quick message, telling him that if he needed to talk, she was there. She sent the message on its way, only to hear an omnitool chime outside her door.

There the assassin sat, his head in his hands. He didn't move when she came into the hallway, didn't look up when she crouched in front of him. It wasn't until she touched him, her hands resting on his bent knees that he raised his head, eyes large and troubled.

"It's alright."

Irikah pressed a kiss against his forehead, holding his face in her hands. She pulled him to her, resting his head in the crook of her neck. "It's alright," she whispered again, and felt him shudder in her arms. Finally, she understood.

He hadn't had a choice. This was what he was raised to do; to not truly see the targets as individuals, to not know. And now she'd opened his eyes to it. He was probably fully aware that he hadn't killed just one that night, but possibly thousands, guilty and innocent alike.

Shaking fingers burrowed into her shirt and he held onto her, as if he were afraid he'd drift away .He didn't speak, but his shoulders heaved unsteadily. Irikah stroked his head, her heart awash with sympathy and her own guilt.

"Come… Let's go inside."

The young man did as he was asked.


	11. Epilogue

_**Summer 2166**_

"Are you sure this is alright?" Thane asked, peering down at the sleeping babe cradled in Irikah's arms, the very picture of worry. This was the third time he'd asked since Irikah suggested they go on their first official outing as a family: a stroll around the neighborhood. It was the first time the three of them were left alone since the child had come into the world little more than a week ago and Thane was understandably concerned.

He'd never been in close quarters with a pregnant woman or a small child, and no matter how stalwart a face he tried to put on, it was clear that the idea more terrified him. Irikah though the whole thing was adorable.

He kept his distance from them even now, seemingly afraid that his very presence would deprive the child of much needed oxygen. He hadn't said it aloud, but Irkiah had a feeling, just like she always did when it came to him. Irikah stood and offered the child to him. Other than in the hospital, he had declined holding the baby, but she wouldn't let him run away from it now. His back smacked against a sand colored wall, and Irikah was upon him. She positioned his arms just so and eased the baby into them. The baby, to his credit, remained asleep.

"Drell women have been getting pregnant for thousands of years," she whispered, stepping back to take them in fully. Through his eyes, Thane silently pleaded with her, but Irkiah ignored him. He needed to get used to holding his own son, considering he'd be small for a good long while. "Which I'm sure you know, and they didn't all become recluses because of it. An afternoon out won't kill us. It's perfectly safe." Thane opened his mouth, ready to counter her argument, and she quickly amended, "Relatively safe."

The last thing she needed was for him to launch into another of his dissertations on the perils that lay just out of sight all around them. He could go on for hours, and they'd burn precious sunlight like that. For him, danger lurked around every corner, in every bit of shadow, and now in every upturned root and every stray stone.

They'd move out of the city once they'd found out Irikah was pregnant, at Thane's urging. She'd hoped that it would ease his paranoia, but as her belly grew, he'd only gotten worse. This experience was new for both of them, but he was wholly unprepared. The one thing his training hadn't prepared him for was being part of a family, but she would help him.

"Everything will be fine, my love, after all, I'll have you with me." He didn't outright protest, but rather twisted his lips in a rather disagreeable way. It wasn't an argument against going out, and Irikah would take it.

They bundled up poor Kolyat until only a small patch of his face was visible, carefully loaded him into the stroller, and headed out.

The first child was supposed to be the one that sets young mother's on edge, yet Irikah was oddly relaxed. Between the two of them, someone had to be, and Thane worried enough for them both.

/*/*/*/*/

The day was beautiful: There was a small break in the clouds, and the sun attempted to bless them with its warmth, a fresh breeze wafted through the small town they now called home. It was an almost perfect day, but with the stroller carrying his newborn son under his control, Thane was anything but relaxed.

He'd thought Irikah a miraculous being before, but those feelings were mounted tenfold. She'd given him a family.

Eighteen months ago, he wouldn't have thought such a thing was possible. It all felt so surreal. That at any moment, he'd wake up to find that this was all a dream.

Honored Messenger had seemed like he'd expected Thane's resignation he went to visit the hanar. He'd already had the necessary paperwork prepared.

Guilt soured Thane's stomach. Despite Shrimaanharkaara's complaisance, Thane felt his resignation smacked of betrayal. Nirrin hadn't been gone a month before he decided to follow suit.

"Seres Krios and Luco are far from the first to leave their station, and they won't be the last." The hanar fell silent as it regarded Thane quietly. "This one thanks you for your service. May the Enkindlers guide your journey." The hanar bowed low to Thane, and had responded in kind.

"Mind the bump," Irikah yawned, bringing her husband back to the present. She nodded towards a few cracks in the sidewalk where the root of a tree had broken through.

With more concentration than he knew the task required, Thane circumnavigated the pitfall, careful not to wake the sleeping child. Irikah watched on, clearly amused by the whole thing.

The park finally in sight, Thane allowed himself to relax, if only just a fraction. Nearly two years living as a civilian, and it was still a concept that, for the most part, escaped him.

There hadn't been much to occupy his time, save for reading and watching Irkiah work, and the days seemed to stretch on forever in that way. The hanar had given him a generous stipend as a departing gift, and it would last into the foreseeable future while he pondered what he should do in his civilian life. Protecting the house was paramount for the time being, and while that was Irikah was a paragon of patience, but he was certain his need to investigate every noise was starting to wear on her.

His sense of awareness had been honed to the point that he could see the end of a chain of events long before the participants could. It wasn't something that was simply shut off, but he was trying, as much for his family's sake as his own.

Swift movement to their right, made Thane pull up short, putting himself in between the unknown and Irikah. His wife gave him a questioning look, just as a small boy darted in front of the stroller, in pursuit of a ball. His mother was hot on his heels.

"Amal Luco, you come back here!" she called after him, but there was no malice in her tone. She paused briefly to bow to the three of them, a shy smile warming her features. It was then that Thane recognized her.

She was Ja'nera, Nirrin's wife, meaning the boy must have been their child.

As quickly as she'd crossed their path, Ja'nera darted off, chasing after her son.

A few moments later, Nirrin brought up the rear, unconcealed amusement lighting his eyes. He seemed to have adapted well to civilian living, but then again, he'd been at it longer than Thane had. His gait was loose and casual, not at all hinting at the life he'd left behind. He seemed at ease with the fact that his family was so far away from him. Thane wouldn't say he envied Nirrin's transformation, but he wondered if maybe there was a trick to it, or if it was just Nirrin being Nirrin.

He glanced into the stroller before letting his gaze linger on Thane, too long to indicate mere causal curiosity.

Nirrin offered Thane and Irikah an apologetic shrug. "Wait until yours starts walking," he offered with a grin.

"What's his name?"

"Kolyat," Irikah chimed in. Nirrin nodded.

"That's a good name." And with a curt bow he trotted off to assist Ja'nera in the capture of their son.

They headed towards a shady spot beneath a tree and spread out the blanket. As soon as it was suitably straightened and smoothed out, Irikah threw herself on it, stretching languidly.

"That was a little odd… Do you know him?" She tried for casual, but she'd picked up a bit of Thane's apprehension along the way.

"I did," Thane began hesitantly, "but that was a long time ago."

The sounds of Kolyat stirring drove Irikah beside the stroller, sparing Thane the need to go on. It was a story, for another day.

[fin]


End file.
